


A Brother of the Air and Fire

by spikesgirl58



Series: the poetry challenge [6]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: Sometimes the answers aren't as important as the questions.
Series: the poetry challenge [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171559
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	A Brother of the Air and Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amedia/gifts).



Morning crept in quietly and settled around the two sleeping figures. In sleep they looked harmless, even innocent, but that was a grand deception. Both were not what they seemed.

Napoleon Solo woke first and he took a full measure of his surroundings before moving. The sun warmed him with its first caress, but he only frowned and sat up. His body sang out in protest and muscles threatened violence if he abused them further.

“How did we get up here?” he said aloud, but softly lest he disturb the man beside him. Napoleon’s fingers cataloged his own injuries, mostly bruises and scratches.

His partner slumbered on and at the sight of the bruises on Illya’s face, Napoleon was in no hurry to wake him. There was enough time for pain later.

Gritting his teeth, he got slowly to his feet, keeping one hand on the cave wall for support. The valley stretched out before him, the angle giving him a rough estimate of just how high they were.

“But how?” he asked again. He began to pat his pockets, looking for something, anything that would give him a hint as to what happened. He remembered escaping, tossing a few guards, and racing out into the night, Illya hot on his heels.

He remembered helicopters, search lights, dogs, but then his mind grew light, as if they were flying, soaring away into safety.

“Ouch,” mumbled the lump behind him.

“Ah, so you are awake.”

“So you say. I’m not sure.” A long pause. “Is there any water left?”

“Water?” Napoleon was confused, but saw a canteen. He shook it and nodded. “Here.” He took a moment to dig through a knapsack that was beside it. He emptied out matches, candles, a compass, and some energy bars.

Illya drank and poured some water into his hand and mopped his face. “Where are we?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” He tossed Illya an energy bar and helped himself to one. It was dry and tasteless, but it was something to eat. He chewed slowly, making the most of it.

“Last I remember was… flying?” Illya’s voice was slow and measured. “I remember a cliff and… jumping?” Illya got to his knees and rubbed his eyes. “Napoleon, did we jump? Are we dead?”

“I hope not, otherwise I’m going to have to seriously reconsider that whole ‘paradise’ aspect of heaven. I smell like I’ve slept in a cow barn. Not what I envisioned as the end. ” He looked around. “Still, it’s warm and dry, that beats the cell we were in.”

“I’m not going to pass judgement.” It took him two tries, but Illya got to his feet. “How did we get up here?”

“Good question… I’m missing a big chunk of time. I hope I’m not back in that cell and pumped full of something.” Illya snorted as Napoleon rolled his shoulders. “My back is killing me.”

“Mine, too. My days of sleeping on the ground are going to soon be behind me. Some mornings, like this one, forty is much more attractive than others.” Illya stretched and twisted. “When I was young, it was all about the thrill of the chase. Now it’s mostly about keeping us both intact until we can retire.”

“That day seems far away right now. I just want to know how we are going to get down. We don’t have any rope.”

“Maybe it’s like that poem I was reading right before we got nabbed.”

“What poem?” That morning in the hotel lobby seemed a lifetime away now. They were sitting, sipping coffee and trying to chart their day when THRUSH landed in their laps. 

“It was called _Love_. It was written by Eavan Boland about a car accident, I think. Most of it was about the writer being married and having kids, but there was one part.” Illya sighed and closed his eyes.

 _Love had the feather and muscle of wings  
and had come to live with us,  
a brother of fire and air_.

He stopped and grinned, hand on his chest. “You swept me off my feet, my dashing prince!” 

Napoleon managed a laugh at that. “It’s funny, though.”

“What?” Illya started on his energy bar.

“I’ve never had another relationship that has lasted a quarter as long as ours and I know you know me better than anyone else. We are constantly in each other’s pockets, we’ve bled together, cried together… Who’s to say that isn’t love?” He paused and smiled a bit wistfully at his partner. “Perhaps we are destined to grow old together.”

There was a sharp crack and Illya held up a cautionary hand, his eyes narrowing. He nodded to the left and Napoleon nodded slowly as Illya made a spinning motion with his forefinger.

“I mean, who is going to argue that we aren’t a couple? Well, mostly a couple, by all apparent means, except for one.” Napoleon watched Illya move slowly towards the boulder.

Illya hesitated and then leapt forward, down behind the rock, Napoleon was on his heels and nearly got his nose bashed in as Illya suddenly stood up, holding a walkie-talkie.

“Look what I found!”

“Great. Now if we only knew where we were…”

“Well, I say we start walking and see where it leads.”

“After you, but watch that first step. It’s a big one.”

“Not out that way, but the way we came in.”

“What?”

“There’s an exit back here. I can feel fresh air on my face.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Napoleon rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“Get packed up that stuff and I’ll go scout the way. And you’re wrong, Napoleon.”

“Wrong?”

“You said except one way. If memory serves me right, there was that time in Rome.”

“Well, you know what they say about when in Rome.”

Illya chuckled and Napoleon knelt to repack the knapsack. _Love had the feather and muscle of wings_ echoed back in his mind and he stopped cold. There beside the canteen were two feathers, a largest ones he’d ever seen. The top one was blond with light blue streaks. Beside it rested another feather of a darker hue, just as large. He scoffed, tossed the feathers aside and went in search of his partner.

_I see you as a hero in a text —_ _  
the image blazing and the edges gilded —  
and I long to cry out the epic question  
my dear companion:  
Will we ever live so intensely again?_

  
  



End file.
